


The first name

by TheIceQueen



Series: Sam's blue book [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Catheters, Crying, Doctors & Physicians, Embarrassment, Hurt Dean, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, I like short chapters, Injury, Major Character Injury, Medical, Medical Inaccuracies, Needles, Pain, Passing Out, Stitches, Worried Dean, injection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-21 14:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: Sam’s little blue book has a lot of contacts. Important contacts. Some has become close friends and some they will probably never have to see again. The first name he ever wrote down, he really hoped would be the latter.Setting is somewhere around season two.





	1. Private ground

The drive back to the motel was fast and at times down right reckless. Dean was in control, as always, though. He just wanted to clean up and get his shoulder fixed. Sam didn’t seem to pay attention to his driving anyway. He was sitting slightly tilted, leaning against the passenger door. He looked pissed off and in pain at the same time.

“You, okay there?” Dean didn’t look at his brother while asking. He had to concentrate about the road. Driving this fast with one hand wasn’t exactly easy.

“M fine” Sam pressed the words through his teeth.

He tried to sit up a bit, but that just resulted in a contracted grimace. Dean noticed but didn’t say anything. They were both masters in downplaying injuries and it was not the time to investigate. Then again, he was hurting himself and that wasn’t serious. Just a dislocated shoulder… well, maybe he needed stitches there too but he couldn’t see. Still, nothing to really worry about. Not life-threatening.

“Thought this was going to be an easy one.” Sam said after he gathered some air.

“It was easy.” Dean smiled and was sure Sam could hear his amusement. “It was just that old lady with the shotgun we hadn’t counted on.”

-

I had been an easy case. The brother and sister spirits were easy to take care of. Salt and burn the bones. A milk run really. However, Bobby had failed to inform them that the crypt was on private ground. They learned that while running for their life’s. Chased by a little old lady in a nightgown, shooting a shotgun.

“Get of my property!” She had yelled before releasing the first shot, which almost had taken Dean out. As they were running into the woods, they fell, no one know who fell first, and rolled down a hill. It was a mess of arms, legs, trees and bushes. That’s when she fired again. “…and don’t come back!”

“Guess she got her point across.” Dean let out a muffled sound of pain as he got himself op to watch the woman turn back.

-

“Hey! Your bleeding on the seat.” Dean had noticed the blood on Sam’s pants.

“Won’t be the first time either. I’ll clean it later.”

Dean didn’t really care about the blood in the car. Sam had managed to get to the car by himself, so he couldn’t be too hurt, but the answer he’d just given worried the older brother. It was too short, too dry, and he sensed Sam starting to close up into himself. It was only when Sam was really hurt and didn’t want to worry Dean that he did that. Otherwise they had a pretty relaxed relationship with the injury-thing. They were used to patching each other up.

Dean pushed down the pedal a bit more. Bobby would be at the motel, waiting. He had been buried in research about this family’s history, he was probably sleeping by now.

-

They tumbled into the motel-room and Bobby sprung up by the commotion.

“I thought you were done. What happened?” He said as he rushed over to catch an almost falling Sam. Sam brushed him of though and headed for the bathroom.

“Humans.” Dean couldn’t help but to smile at the situation. It was too ridiculous. He sat down on one of the two beds, which was taking up most of the space in the small room.

“Let me take a look at that shoulder.” Bobby was still a bit confused by the circumstances of how the injuries had occurred, but the boys didn’t seem to worry all that much and a dislocated shoulder he knew how to fix.

“We should help him first.” Dean nodded towards the bathroom door. “I think he took some pellets from the last shot.”

“He got shot?”

Dean shrug his good shoulder and nodded. “I think so.”

As dean had struggled with getting out of the car, without making the wound on his back worse, he had noticed more blood on the seat where Sam had been sitting. Sam had been out of the car too quickly for someone in as much pain as he obviously was. He had said almost nothing during the drive and he hadn’t asked if his older brother was okay even once. Which was so out of character, it worried Dean, and now he had locked himself in the bathroom.

“You okay in there Sam.” Bobby was at the door. Dean could hear Sam moving around in there, probably washing up a bit and looking over his injuries.

“Sam?” Bobby looked worried at Dean.

“M okay. Just give me a minute.” Sam sounded distressed and in pain, but most of all Dean could hear that he was in a hurry, so he just nodded at Bobby to agree and give the guy his time.


	2. The older brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is worried about Sam but for now he has his own injuries to tend to.

”Since we are waiting for the beauty queen in there, we might as well patch you up meanwhile.” Bobby looked like this was just like any other day and Dean tried to drown out the little voice telling him that Sam was acting strange. As the elder guy got a first-aid-kid from his bag and he took a few deep breaths to brace himself for what was coming next.

“Can you get out of the shirt or do I have to cut it of you?” Bobby placed the little green bag with bandages, disinfectants and needles on the table next to the bed.

He had gotten stitches before and he knew it wasn’t pleasant, at all. “Can’t you just pop it back in and then put a band-aid on the rest.” He tried to sound annoyed while he was struggling with getting the torn t-shirt over his head. Bobby came to assistance when he got stuck in the fabric.

“It’s a bit bigger than that, this time.” Dean could hear the hidden amusement in Bobby’s voice, but chose not to fight neither the help with the shirt, nor the conversation.

“Now sit up straight.” Bobby ordered after he had gotten Dean untangled from the bloody and torn t-shirt. Dean didn’t say anything. He just did as told and held his breath while Bobby laid his hands on his back and shoulder. He had lost count of the times his shoulder had been dislocated, lately it had become the rule rather than the exception when he’d fall. He knew it would be over quickly and the pain he was in would be replaced by a soreness that was nothing to mention.

“Sorry, I can’t do it like this.” Dean was confused for a moment but then realized by the move of Bobby’s hand and the sharp pain that followed that he’d had to place his hand on the wound to pop the shoulder back in. Dean hissed and as pressure followed he let out a cry, while his shoulder snapped back in place.

“Dammit.” He hissed the words. He always forgot how painful it was to reset a joint, and with the added pain of Bobby’s hand in his wound he now knew there was no way of getting around the stitches. He really hated that part and always had. He didn’t understand how Sam was able to do it to himself. It was too slow and torturous he’d rather have his shoulder dislocated and set once a day for a week than to get stitched.

Dean was grateful that Bobby had given him a minute to get his breathing back under control before coming at him with more “patching up”, but that was over now.

“Do you want to take the edge of?” A bottle of whiskey was on the little table under the window and Dean had already thought about it, but decided against it. He had to stay sober, just in case they’d hear an alarming sound, or no sounds, from the bathroom and had to kick in the door and drive to the hospital with his injured brother. Dean shook his head and when he noticed the confused look on Bobby’s face he just glanced towards the bathroom door.

“Okay.” Bobby understood but knew that Dean had a difficult time with stitches. He got a bottle of disinfectant and a towel and stood behind Dean once more. He held the towel against the bare back, under the wound and poured the liquid over the torn flesh. Dean hissed and pulled away, but Bobby had foreseen that and moved along with him. The burning tore through Dean’s back from the top of his shoulder over his shoulder blade and downwards, crossing his spine right above the middle of his back. Dean’s vision went out and he grabbed the cover on the bed, mostly because of the pain but also to ground himself so he wouldn’t fall over.

He heard Bobby moving through the room and getting stuff from the bag. He could have reached it from the other side of the bed but once again he was giving Dean time to recover, and he was secretly grateful.

“You may wanna lay down for this.” He looked at Bobby with eyes that could kill. He didn’t like to lay down, he would feel confined and claustrophobic because he couldn’t move away. “We wouldn’t want you to jump let alone pass out while I’m doing this.”

Dean didn’t say anything, he just replaced the pillow lower on the bed and laid down, slowly, so his chest was on the pillow and his head resting on his good arm. The burning was almost gone, but it had left him painfully aware of just how long the tear was. It would take a lot of stiches and he was dreading the thought of how long it would take.

“Ready?” He felt the mattress shift under the weight from a person sitting down next to him. Bobby laid a hand on his back and waited for confirmation. Dean turned his head away from the shoulder and placed his face towards the other arm.

“Okay then.” Bobby said and put the needle to the skin on Dean’s back. Dean tensed up his entire body and pressed his face down into the arm under his head. The second stitch was even worse, not pain-wise but the fact that it didn’t seem to be far from the first. There was a long way from the placement of that pain to the shoulder where the wound would end. His face was buried, but the only thought he had was that he had to pass out before he started crying. He held his breath.

“Dean!” Bobby had stopped working. “Dean. You need to breathe. You’ll pass out if you don’t.” Dean was relieved by the break from piercing and stretching of his skin but he knew they were nowhere near done. He took a deep breath to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack.

“And how is that’s a bad thing? Passing out sound’s really good right now.” He tried to sound angry and he really was angry, not at Bobby but the whole situation, but he was sure he could not hide that he was scared too. Scared of the pain, of the extend of the wound, of the healing process but mostly he was afraid that he’d end up crying in a corner kicking and screaming at Bobby like a kid getting the first flu-shot.

“I’ve put in four. If you pass out now you might wake up before were done.” Bobby sounded genuinely concerned and worried.

“How many?” Dean wasn’t sure he’d want the answer but right now he needed some kind of control and knowledge of the situation was the only thing he could grasp at.

“I don’t know for sure but a lot more.” Dean could hear the elder guy shaking his head as he said it.

“I need a number.” This time Dean sounded determined and he almost surprised himself by how calm his voice was.

“The wound isn’t that deep. I don’t need to place them that close together…” Bobby talked quickly but kept his volume down. “…and there is a part in the middle that won’t need sewing at all.”

“A number, Bobby!”

Bobby gave in and held his flow of speech, that wasn’t really helping anyway. “Twenty… twenty-five.”

Dean had thought as much but he was not ready to hear it confirmed. He went limp and his breathing sped up. He looked at the bottle on the table as if it was calling to him. Then he listened for Sam. Bobby was blocking the view of the bathroom door so there was no point in turning his head towards it. He would only see the closed door anyway. Sam was still in there. He could hear him moving around. He’d been in there for almost half an hour now and he must have heard his older brother hiss and shout from pain and it worried Dean that it hadn’t made him come out of there, to be the overly protective and worried brother he always was.

Once again, he decided not to drink. “If I pass out, keep going.”

Dean tensed op again and held his breath through the pain starting up again, this time Bobby didn’t stop. Two stitches later and his body betrayed him and decided against his wishes that he had to breathe. A sob came along with the breath and a tear rolled over his face. Then everything went black and the pain subsided a bit and he realized what was happening. He welcomed the unconsciousness as it rolled over him.

-

Dean tried to escape the pain on his shoulder but he was not moving. As the feeling of pulling and stretching got more intense he moaned and was able to open his eyes a bit.

“Almost there, Dean. Hold on.” Bobby’s voice was behind him and he realized, he was still face down on the bed getting stitched up.

“A number.” He was almost able to see the room around them now but his voice was almost none-existing.

“On the last one. Keep still.” Dean froze and held his breath once more. Were there tears on his face? It felt hot and wet like he’d been crying.

“All done.” Bobby got up and moved around the foot-end of the bed. Dean quickly wiped his face with his hand. If Bobby saw it he pretended not to.

“What’ you think you are doing?” Dean had tried to sit up and regretted it instantly. “You’ll ruin all the hard work I just did. I don’t want to do it all over again.” Bobby helped him to be more comfortable with the pillow and then found some dressings to tape over the long, sewn up, laceration.

“Now lay here and don’t move while I go and break down that door.” He looked towards the bathroom. Dean looked at Bobby. Was Sam still in there? What the hell was going on?

“How long?”

“Over 90 minutes.” Bobby looked just a worried as Dean felt.


	3. Lifeline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is still not including the two others in his situation and they are forced to make some kind of decision but they didn't have many options to begin with.

”I’m gonna knock him out and take him to the hospital myself.” Dean kept his voice down. He was not sure if Sam was sleeping or if he heard everything.

Last night Bobby had to threaten Sam that he would break in the door before the tall guy opened it and moved through the opening slowly. Not making eye-contact and with much trouble placed himself on the second bed, refusing any help, facing away from the room and the worried eyes that had followed him in silence.

Dean was getting anxious about the whole situation. Bobby looked op from the table, he looked like he considered the plan for a moment.

“I hope it won’t come to that. It’s not likely he could get treated without someone calling the cops.”

Dean got up from the bed, he’d been lying on all night, and sat down cautiously at the other side of the table. “Why won’t he let you or me help him? I don’t like this one bit, Bobby.”

“I know. Dean.” Bobby stood up. “We don’t need to make a decision right this minute. You guys need to eat, God knows I do. I’ll go get some food and we can change your bandage after we eat.”

Dean was hungry and he knew Sam must be too. He nodded at the elder hunter as he walked to the door.

“You just get him to sit up in meanwhile maybe get him to say something. We need to know what is going on.” With that Bobby left the room and Dean heard the growl of the Impala’s engine starting.

-

“Sam. Are you awake?” Sam didn’t answer, he didn’t even move.

Dean walked to the other side of the bed and kneeled down to be face-level with his brother. Sam was awake and he was following Dean’s every move with his eyes.

“C’mon. What is up with you? Tell me what the hell is going on.”

Sam just shook his head lightly and sighed. He looked annoyed with the demands his brother was giving.

“I’m fine. I just need to relax for a day or two.”

Dean wasn’t convinced. “Hey! You lock yourself in the bathroom for hours and then you come out and won’t even tell me what is wrong with you. You are supposed to be the talker, remember?”

“It wasn’t that long. I’m fine, I promise. It just hurts and I’m tired. Okay?” He looked up at Dean, a pleading look that made the older brother feel sorry for asking.

“Okay. But you have to eat and if you don’t get better…”

“I will. Don’t worry.” Dean was not sure if Sam was trying to convince him or himself but as Bobby had said; they didn’t need to make any rushed decisions right now.

-

Sam hadn’t eaten the sandwich, Bobby had brought back, and even though Dean wasn’t pleased with that, he was content with seeing that he had been drinking water whenever he was offered. He still didn’t talk much and wouldn’t give any information to his injuries, except that he had it under control and he would heel in a few days. Dean didn’t like to see his normally strong brother laying this still. He hadn’t moved a muscle since he came out form the bathroom and it had been 24 hours of laying still, not even trying to sit up when he was drinking. Still facing away from the two other guys. He looked small on the bed, in his grey sweatpants and white t-shirt which was both a little on the large side, even for Sam.

There was a knock at the door and before Dean answered, Bobby came in. He had paid for the room next door, since there were only two beds in this one. They hadn’t planned to stay overnight when they first got the case. The room had only been a quiet place for research and showering.

“He’s still the same?”

Dean lifted his head from the comic he’d already read four times and looked at his brother once again. He nodded.

“How do you feel about driving?” Bobby looked at Dean and gestured at the bandage on his shoulder.

“I’m okay, but…” he looked at Sam, who still wasn’t moving.

“Sam. Are you sleeping.” Dean knew he wasn’t. “We should get outta here.”

Sam’s breathing changed like he was weighing his options, and Dean waited.

“Can we stay for a day more? I’m not sure if I could stand the drive right now.”

“What do you mean?” Dean got up and moved through the room, a bit too fast for his own injuries. He sat down with a grimace to face his brother.

Bobby filled in the empty space in conversation. “It might be good to go back to my place soon, we are attracting some nosy looks out there, and you might want a place too recov…”

“Bobby.” Dean looked at the man still standing by the door.

“What?”

“He’s burning up with fewer!” Panic sat in with Dean, he needed to do something, but had no idea what.

“I’m not.” Sam said. Why hadn’t Dean noticed the fatigue on his voice before? “It’s just really warm in here. Can I get some more water?”

Dean screwed the cap of the water bottle and watched his sweating brother take the smallest sip of water in the world. Sam must have been exhausted because he seemed like he just won that argument. Dean got up and dragged Bobby to the parking lot.

-

“Cops or no cops, I’m taking him to the hospital.” Dean was already on his way to get the Impala, when Bobby grabbed his upper arm.

“Bobby, his sick. C’mon!”

“I may have another solution.”

Dean paused.

“I didn’t think he was that bad, but with his injuries clearly infected and the fact that he still don’t want us to know…”

“Get to the point, Bobby.” Dean was ready to tie his huge brother up and carry him to the car himself, even if it meant his stitches would tear and he might had to knock Sam out.

“What if we can get a doctor here? Someone who knows hunting?”

Dean thought about it, but Sam still wouldn't want help. Bobby must have seen the doubt in his face.

“When she is here, it’s the best option he’s gonna get. He’ll realize that.”

“You already have someone in mind, don’t you?” Dean was calming down a bit, but still wasn’t sure it would work.

“I know someone. She’s really good and has helped me a few times, when I’ve been hunting alone. I should have mentioned it earlier but I really thought he would either come around or get better.”

“Just make the call.” Dean put the car-keys in his pocket again and went inside to see if they had any over the counter antibiotics left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking forward to writing the next chapter. It will be Sam's POV. I hope you like this so far.


	4. The younger brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second night and Sam is finally able to sleep a bit. The next morning he is woken abruptly though.

The second night had been long. Sam did not sleep much. His head was throbbing and heavy and even though the antibiotics Dean had basically forced in him, had helped a bit, his stomach was acting up. He didn’t know if it was from hunger or the worry. The pain didn’t help either.

At some point, he’d had to get up to pee. He’d waited for Dean to fall asleep and when he finally made a move he was in a hurry. Pain shooting from his lover body, he wasn’t sure he would be able to pee at all, but one problem at a time. How to get up without sitting first? He maneuvered his legs over the edge of the bed and slowly lowered his feet to the floor. The stretching of the muscles he hadn’t moved in over a day made his lover back cramp and he stated panting.

_Quiet_

He looked over at Dean, who was still asleep.

_Good. Breathe_

He stretched his back and ignored the added pain between his legs. Every step felt like he was splitting open from beneath. Like someone held a knife to his private area and sliced a bit deeper with every move. He forced himself to move faster, he really needed to go now after the gravity set in and he knew that he couldn’t handle the cleanup if it happened in here.

He sat down on the toilet moments before his legs would have crumbled under him and the movement sent an electricity of pain throughout his entire body. Even his feet were shaking.

_I’m not getting better_

_What the hell?!_

_I can’t stay in this motel_

He stopped his line of thought. He knew there was no option than to be there. He could not go to a hospital if he was shot, which he was pretty sure of, but he couldn’t see the wound down there. He was not able to drive anywhere in his condition, he would throw up or possibly pass out and Dean would freak and overreact, he’d might take him to a hospital. He had no other choice than to hope the antibiotics was enough to keep him going till the wound was healed by itself.

He cleaned himself, more than he’d ever done after a pee. He didn’t need any more infection. It was horrible, the whole area was sore and at one point he was sure he would through up. There was some blood on the paper but not as much as earlier. He changed his boxers and threw the old, and bloody ones away, his sweatpants too, making sure they were hidden in the trash can so Dean wouldn’t accidently see them.

When he got back to the bed he checked for blood. There was a little but not enough to make the exhausted man change sheets. He laid down on his back and pulled the cover over his now bare legs. It was good to lay in a different position, even if it this hurt more than the other.

He turned his head to look at Dean. He was still clothed, laying on his back on top of the cover. Ready to go. Sam wasn’t sure he was sleeping or if he’d heard every noise and moan, but he didn’t open his eyes. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out why Dean hadn’t hauled his ass out of there already. It wasn’t like him. He was almost sure his older brother had figured out the intimacy of the injury, otherwise he would have torn the clothes from his body to get a look for himself. Right this moment, Sam was just happy to get some rest. Slowly but surely, he fell into a sporadic sleep. Waking up with every move, but when he returned to lying on his side, he was finally able to get some cohesive sleep for the first time since the case.

-

Sam woke up from the sound of a van outside the room, and he was sure he heard Bobby’s voice being interrupted.

“You better have a damn good reason to drag my ass all the way out here, Bobby.” A car door slammed.

“Good to see you too.”

“That’s good Bobby. Where to?” The woman sounded annoyed but not angry, Sam was sure she was smiling even though he couldn’t see her.

He heard Dean waking and sitting up in the bed. He let out a muffled moan. Sam hadn’t seen Dean’s injuries yet, but he must have been hurt bad too. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been so adamant about helping Sam. He suddenly felt bad. What if Dean was really hurt too, maybe even worse that himself?

The door flew open, the morning light filled the room and made Sam squint even though he was facing away from the door.

“That’s not a good reason.” Now she sounded angry. “What the hell, Bobby? You make me drive all night, through God knows what to God knows where. Where the hell is this place anyway?! You already patched him up.”

Sam reckoned that she must be talking about Dean and even though he was confused by the commotion, he was relieved to hear that Dean must be doing okay.

“Please tell me you’re not getting soft on your old days.”

Sam could practically hear the patience leaving Bobby’s face.

“Well…” Bobby started and took a deep breath. “That guy is a pain in my butt too, but the reason I called you is his brother. He is on the other bed.”

Sam’s heart dropped. He felt all three pair of eyes on his back. Though the whole thing he hadn’t moved, and with the cover over him the woman must not have noticed him being there. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, but it was hard to control his breathing.

“I know he’s a tiny one, I have trouble finding him sometimes too.” Bobby continued.

“Okay, okay. I get it. Just fill me in, you weren’t actually clear as to what the problem is.” She seemed to come down a bit. She was talking slower now, but Sam did not like the commanding tone in her voice. Who could get away with talking to Bobby in that way?

“He hasn’t told us anything.” Dean must had gotten up to great her. His voice was now coming from the same directions as the others. “I think he might have caught a pellet or more from a shotgun. He’s obviously in pain and he had a fewer last night.”

Sam could hear the worry and confusion in his brother’s voice.

“Tell me you called as soon as you noticed the fewer.”

“Of course.” A reprimanded school boy answered with Bobby’s voice.

“Good. You don’t play around with that. Now leave us alone.”

Sam’s stomach turned.

“But…” Dean tried, but gut cut off.

“If he hasn’t asked for your help, it’s probably because he can’t take it. If he really needs help neither of you should be here.” There was a hint of apology in her voice, but she was still not one to argue with. Besides, Sam knew she was right and Dean must have too because the next thing he heard was the door closing and Dean’s muffled voice on the other side.

“Where did you find her?”


	5. Unfamiliar grounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is facing treatment for his injuries, while still trying to figure out how seriously he's hurt. The embarrassment and pain might be tough but it's not the only thing tormenting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no medical training, so go with the inaccuracies, please.

Footsteps were coming closer and moving around the foot end of the bed. It took forever and still suddenly he heard a bag being placed on the floor right in front of him.

“Open your eyes. There is no way you have slept through all of that.”

Sam opened his eyes and found that the woman was kneeling down in front of his face. He felt like he was 7 years old and about to get the scolding of his life, but he met kind eyes and a soft smile. The woman must have been about Bobby’s age and Sam could definitely see how she could intimidate the experienced hunter, but right now she was showing nothing but concern.

“I’m Emmy. A…” She looked up at the door where the others had left. “…a friend of Bobbys.” She paused and looked at Sam again, he still didn’t know what to make of this new acquaintance.

“I’m a doctor and I’ve helped a lot of hunters over the years. Now, I don’t know a lot about the situation so you need to tell me what is going on, so we can get you guys on the road again.”

Sam broke eye-contact.

He was conflicted. This might be the only chance of help, but he didn’t know her. Besides it still might heel on its own. Right? He wasn’t sure he believed that anymore, but to have someone, anyone, even a doctor look and touch, down there, was not an option.

“Hey!” The doctor cupped his chin and moved his head up to meet her eyes again. “What’s your name?”

“Sam.”

“Listen Sam.” She was calm but firm in her voice. “I’m the best you’re gonna get. Your brother is going to drag you all the way to the hospital by your feet, in a minute. So, come on. Let me help you.”

She seemed genuinely interested in helping him and Sam couldn’t help but to trust her. He took a deep determined breath and nodded, still keeping eye-contact.

“Okay.” The doctor took charge of the situation. “From your brothers look, he’s not used to you shutting of like this, at least not with injuries. So, you’re not afraid of him patching you up?”

Sam shook his head. He really must have worried Dean, normally it was only him that knew how his brother felt.

“So, it’s… private?” She looked over Sam’s body. He did not know how to respond to that, but not responding must have given her an answer.

“Do you want to tell me or should I just have a look and we leave it in silence?”

Sam still didn’t say anything but moved his arm to the edge of the cover he was still under, grabbing it.

_This is really happening_

_No way around it now_

_Please just let her storm outta here and scold Bobby for calling her for no reason_

“Front or back?”

Sam looked defeated and he felt like it too. Why was this happening to him? He didn’t look at the Doctor, he just moved his arm behind him and pulled the cover to his front, exposing not much of his back, but enough to show the new bloodstain low on his boxers.

“Sam. Relax. I’m just going to look.” The doctor stood up and walked around the bed. She left the bag in front of him. She seemed strong, even with her age and small frame.

She moved the cover a bit more and Sam felt the air on his rear as she pulled his boxers down a bit. It was warm in the room, but the air felt cold in contrast to his feverish skin just freed from the hot blanket.

“You’ll have to help a bit here. I can’t see like this.” Sam knew his wound was too low to see from the angle she was at. He was hurting between his legs and as he was lying on his side, one leg on top of the other, he had managed to keep the bleeding to a minimum and not letting anyone see. He didn’t want to, but he had to comprehend that that was over now.

“Can you shift a bit so I can get these all the way of off you?” Sam closed his eyes in pain as he moved his lover body, just a bit, but enough to let the woman pull his stained boxers off. He let out a deep sigh as he relaxed his body down to the mattress again.

“You’re in a lot of pain there, aren’t you?” She moved in front of the bed again. Sam followed her every move as she placed a hand firmly on his knee. Sam’s entire body tensed up.

“I still can’t see, but you know that, right?”

Sam nodded.

“Is it less painful when you are on your side?” She looked up and down his body, like she was figuring out how to approach the circumstances.

He nodded again. It was like it was the only thing his body could do.

“I can work with that, but you need to pull your knees op, as far as possible. Can you do that?”

_NO!_

_I can’t move. I will fall apart._

_Literally!_

Sam was sure she saw his eyes widening with fear. He didn’t mean to show but he didn’t notice himself before she kneeled down again.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll help.” She put one her hands around the back of both his knees and Sam tensed even more, if that was possible. “You relax and I’ll do the work. Just say stop, when it’s too much. I’ll stop, I promise.”

There was no doubt in her eyes that this was going to happen.

There was no doubt in Sam’s mind that this was going to hurt. 

“I’m… I ca…” Sam was struggling to find words and didn’t even know if he wanted to talk at all. Emmy was sitting, still with her hands on his knees, and just waiting for him to gather his thought.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.” He finally whispered.

He felt ashamed, not because of the injury, but because he’d shown fear. He should be able to handle the pain, he’d felt worse, but not knowing the extent of the injury made everything worse and he was scared.

The doctor shifted a bit. She looked concerned but not enough to make Sam think all hope was out. “Can I lift your leg a bit? I just want to see. That way I can make sure it’s not a problem to move your knees up.”

He could manage that. He nodded, a bit relieved. It would be okay. Until she grabbed his lower leg and his knee.

_She’s going to see everything!_

The pain was not as bad as he’d feared. It still hurt like hell, though. He grabbed the edge of the mattress and squished his eyes shot, a nearly inaudible sob crossed his lips. The doctor gently lowered his leg again and gave him a second to get his breathing back in order, then she sat down by his side again.

When Sam was ready he opened his eyes, and looked up at a reassuring face.

“It’s not as bad as it could be. I can’t imagine how much an injury like that must hurt, but it’s absolutely safe for you to move.” He felt his body relaxing bit by bit. The pain he could deal with, it was the not knowing that had freaked him out.

“But what...?” He didn’t know how to finish his question. Thankfully Emmy didn’t need more words.

“One of the pellets from the shotgun hit you. I’m guessing it’s still in there.”

“In there?” Sam was confused, scared and embarrassed all at once.

“In the wound.” The woman quickly picked up on the man’s insecurity. “No organs seem to be hurt. The wound is small and located in the perineal body.”

Sam shook his head to let the woman know that he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. He’d had biology at school but this was definitely not covered.

“I need to make sure, but it looks like the pellet has hit you in the area between your anus and scrotum.” Sam cringed by the words. It was too medical and too private at the same time.

“I need you to pull your knees up so I can see properly and so I can use both hands. I can’t remove it while holding your leg.”

_She was going to remove it_

Of course, she was. He’d known that from the moment she slammed that car door. He’d know about the pellet since he fell down that hill. He just didn’t want it to be real.

“I can’t. Just leave it. It’s not that b…” He stopped himself, not because of control or restrain, he simply couldn’t talk whit his breathing going so fast. His chest hurt.

“Hey, hey. Breathe.” Emmy’s eyes were right there looking at him, the only thing he could see, but he felt her holding his hands with both of hers. He worked hard to control his breathing, and managed to calm down enough to meet her eyes.

“What just happened?” She removed a lock of hair from his face to get better contact with the still trembling boy.

“I… I don’t know.” He really didn’t know. He’d never freaked like that before. “I guess…” he sighed.

“You’re used to being in control, right? Even if your brother is patching your up, you are always aware and maybe even sitting up, never the victim?”

“I guess.”

“And now you can’t see what is happening, you don’t know me, you are embarrassed and you have no idea what to expect pain-wise. Sounds about right?”

She was right. He’d lost control of the situation, of himself.

“Listen, that would freak anyone out.” How could a stranger show as much concern and comfort? She didn’t judge him for being scared, but it could just be that she didn’t show it. She probably wanted to get out of this room just as bad has he did.

“I can talk you through it. Explain everything before I do it, if it makes it easier, but what I can’t do is leave it in there.”

Sam looked at her for what seemed like minutes. Studying her. She wasn’t budging. Then he sighed and looked away.

“Just warn me before it hurts.” He sounded defeated, he could hear it in his own voice. He didn’t need to know all the medical details, it only made him feel more self-conscious.

“You’ sure?”

He nodded.

“Just to make sure. Do you want Bobby or your brother in here for this? I can make sure they won…”

“No.”

“Okay, I’m moving your legs, it might stretch, but trust me it won’t do more damage.” Sam held his breath and the strong woman took hold around his knees and slowly pulled them towards his chest.

Sam groaned as the pain from his stretched skin spread throughout his legs and up his pine. It burned. He was sure the wound was splitting open even more.

“Hold on here.” She placed his arms around his legs and held on till he was getting the gesture and held on himself.

The pain subsided a bit as the movement stopped and he didn’t have to hold on to his legs too tight to keep them there. He was beginning to think that his arms was only placed there to give him something to hold on to. Which alarmed him a bit about what was to come next. He felt something warm glide down one butt-cheek and wetting the mattress under him. Emmy was still in front of him, picking up her bag and putting it on a chair, so it wasn’t her doing. The only thing he could imagine then, was that he was bleeding.

Emmy put on a pair of gloves, making Sam shrink, and laid a piece of plastic down to cover the foot-end of the bed. “I’m just finding some things. I’ll let you know when I start.”

She continued to pick things from her bag and laying them carefully on the plastic. Sam couldn’t see and he didn’t try either. Not sure it would help to see a bunch of shiny instruments placed neatly on a plastic sheet so close to his rear.

“I’ll just clean up a bit first, so I can see exactly what is going on. It’ll be cold and it will sting.”

Sam took a deep breath and held it. Letting it out in a loud cry as the cold liquid started to burn. He grabbed tight around his knees and tensed up once again.

“Breathe, Sam. Almost done.”

Sam tried to follow the order but it just resulted in an uneven panting.

“Breathe.” Emmy was not touching him anymore. She was just waiting for him to relax. “That’s it. Breathe.” She continued to coach him until he was able to relax his back and legs. He felt his body getting limp and his breathing started to slow down and get deeper.

“Sam. Are you with me?”

“Yhh.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

“It looks like it’s just under the skin, barely touched the muscle. It won’t take long to get it out.” She sounded relived, again it could be because she wanted the hell out of here, but Sam sensed a tone in her voice saying that she was happy that he wouldn’t be in pain much longer. Sam was worried though, how long was “not long” and how deep is the skin really down there?

“I can give you a local anesthetic. It might be a good idea since you need a couple of stitches afterwards.”

Sam was about to say “no” and just get it over with, but stitches. There! It closed the deal. He didn’t like stitches. It was okay when he did it himself, then he was in control and could chose the pace. This time he couldn’t even look and to have it done in such a sensitive place.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Just a sec.” She stood up but came back to the bed quickly, sitting behind him again. “I’ll only need to inject two places. You might not even feel the second one.”

_Brace yourself_

_Don’t move or it’ll hurt more_

_Did I seriously just agree to this?_

_I won’t feel the second one, won’t feel it_

“I know it’s hard but try to relax. It’ll hurt less.” The doctor placed a hand on his rear, maybe to hold him still, maybe to let him know she was starting.

_Oh my God! I’ll definitely feel the first_

“Breathe.”

And the needle went in. He could feel it pinching, deeper, and then the pressure and the burning. He tried to concentrate on his breathing. Anything to not think about the fact that there was a syringe inside him so close to both his ass and his balls.

_In     Out     In     Out_

It helped. He actually managed to stay mostly relaxed and not moving.

“Now we just wait for half a minute to let it work. How are you holding up?” Emmy pulled off her cloves and went to his front and offered him the bottle of water from the night stand.

“Okay. I guess.”

Sam hadn’t felt the second injection, at all, and he could feel the pain vanishing by the second now. “That stuff really works.”

He could see Emmy smiling as she picked up and put on a new pair of gloves. This time the act didn’t alarm him as much. She moved to his back side again.

“Let’s get this finished. Whatta you say?”

Sam answered by wrapping his arms around his knees.

“As I said I don’t think it’s imbedded in the muscle, but if it is you might feel some pinching, but nothing like the pain you felt before. It will mostly just be pressure”

“Okay.” Sam let her know he was ready and she started to touch him. It felt like she was digging inside of him. The pressure of the chosen tool was almost violent to him, but it didn’t hurt. A small pinch startled him and he jolted.

“Sorry. I’m done now.” Sam’s head felt back onto the pillow.

“I’m going to clean the wound. It’ll just be cold and you will not feel the stitching.”

He felt the pressure of something inside again, but nothing hurt. The water made its way down his butt-cheek and the back of his thighs. It was wetting the bed and making him shiver with cold.

“Lie still now.” He must have shifted in attempt to escape the cold spot under him.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. No worry. Just putting in the stitches and then were done.” She was working while she was talking, but Sam didn’t feel the needle. Only a light touch, which under most circumstances would have been deeply inappropriate. Right now, though, he didn’t think of that. He was just happy there was no pain.


	6. Uncomfortable aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if things wasn't uncomfortable and embarrassing enough. One last thing before the doctor leaves.
> 
> ...and then there is the worrying older brother outside waiting.

Emmy was packing up in the corner. She’d changed the sheets while he was still in the bed. Sam had offered to move to the other bed and even to do it himself, but she was adamant that he stayed lying down. She told him that she didn’t want him to tear the sutures and with that he’d surrendered and let her roll him from side to side while getting the new sheets on. It wasn’t her fist time either and the strong woman had had no problem with moving his, bigger than normal, being.

Now he was lying on his back, stretching his legs. Enjoying the painkillers. He’d gotten a shot of antibiotics too, that definitely wasn’t over-the-counter-stuff. He could swear there was something else in there too. It might also be the fact that his fever was going down, the pain was gone and he was feeling the exhaustion for real now. His head was elevated by multiple pillows to give him a look over the room he hadn’t dad for days. Under the cover he was still naked from the waist down, but as the doctor had said; It was not an ideal place for a bandage and the air would speed up the healing process anyway. As long as no one could see anymore, he was content.

The doctor pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down. Sam had watched her finish cleaning and packing up, but he noticed her bag was still open and right next to her. They were done, nothing more to do, he couldn’t think of anything, so he brushed it aside.

“You should stay in bed for at least two days. Your sutures might tear if you walk around. Have you had any solid food?”

“No…” Sam hesitated. Why was she asking that? “Why?”

She leaned forward placing her elbows on her knees and put one hand in the other. “Bowel movement could result in tearing too, not to talk about infection.”

Sam was in utter disbelieve. After all that he just went through, he still wasn’t done. He was not even able to go to the bathroom!

“I’ve only had water, so I’ll be fine, right?”

“If you haven’t eaten in over 36 hours…”

“I haven’t!”

The last time he’d eaten was an energy-smoothie for breakfast the morning of the accident, and it was over 48 hours ago.

“Then there should be nothing to worry about, you’re empty. But you need water and you shouldn’t be walking to the bathroom at all.”

“I can’t _not_ pee.” Sam was playing dumb, he had already figured out where this was going, but once again he didn’t want to believe it and he certainly didn’t want to be the one saying it.

“I have to put in a catheter.”  She paused and observed all the light disappear from the boy’s eyes.

Sam didn’t notice a tear forming at the corner of his eye. He had been so relieved when his private parts weren’t hurt and that he didn’t needed touching there. He had fought so long to keep all of this from his brother and now a stranger would shove a tube inside him and it would be on display for anyone to see. Bobby and Dean would know. The tear moved over his cheek and he wiped it of as it hit his jawline.

“I know it’s much to handle right now, but it’s not that bad.” The elder woman took his hand. “It will only be for a few days and then you can move around again. You might feel up to taking it out by yourself and if not, you just call.”

Sam pushed his head back into the pillows and looked at the ceiling.

“There’s no way around this, is there?”

“You can’t stop drinking, honey.”

Another tear escaped his eye. Traveling over his temple and down to his ear. Another one followed.

“It’s the last thing and then you don’t ever have to see me again. I’m sure your brother would like to come in soon too. He’s been roaming around out there for over three hours.” She looked at the door to the parking lot.

Sam suddenly and unexpectedly missed his brother. He needed to see him, to make sure he was okay and to tell him that he was fine himself, but he didn’t want him in here. Not now. Not like this, and definitely not with a tube leading urine out if his penis. More tears formed and soon he couldn’t see the ceiling at all. So, he just closed his eyes and cried. The only sound in the room was the ragged breathing coming from the broken boy.

Emmy squeezed his hand and wiped away some tears with a tissue. Not nearly fast enough to get them all, but enough to let him know that she’d seen him hurting.

“I’ll explain to your brother what he needs to know. He’s worried outta his mind, but he doesn’t need to know every detail.”

“But…” He took a deep breath. Sam was trying not to start full on bawling. “But the…” He looked down his body.

“The catheter we can’t hide from him completely, but I’ll let him know how to _not_ talk about that.” She sounded forceful, like the first time he’d heard her. The thought of her talking to Dean like she’d lectured Bobby when she first got here, put a smile on his face. Dean would shrink into nothing.

“That’s it.” She wiped the last of the tears from his face and placed a clean tissue in his hand.

“You’ ready?”

Sam pulled the pillows out from under his head and laid flat on his back. This was something he didn’t had to see. He wanted to distance himself as far from it as possible.

Emmy found something in her bag and put it on the bed. It sounded like it was wrapped in plastic. Then she pulled the cover away, just enough so she could work, but exposing nothing else. The intimidating sound of someone putting on cloves returned to the room and Sam locked his eyes to an unused outlet over his head.

“This will be cold.” And she was not lying. Sam felt the cool liquid sending shivers through his entire body.

“Breathe, Sam. It’ll be over soon.”

The pressure wasn’t that bad. The slight stinging, he could handle. The sensation of something moving up inside him made him sick to his stomach and on the edge of throwing up. He tried to breathe through it, to keep it under control.

_Breathe_

_It doesn’t hurt_

_It’s all in your head_

_Breathe_

Then it did hurt. A cramping feeling deep inside. He cried out, mostly from surprise, and lifted his head and upper body from the mattress, only to collide back into it.

“It’s the last part Sam. It is often a bit tighter. Just keep breathing, you’re doing fine.”

Sam took another few breaths and then the cramping stopped and the woman let go of his body. He exhaled with relief and closed his eyes as Emmy covered him up and attached him to whatever needed to be attached.

She packed her stuff. All of it. Then she sat down on the chair again. Waiting for Sam to look at her. Once he did she started speaking. Something about what she would tell Dean and leaving some instructions and her card with her number. Sam was tired and even though he was grateful for the help, he really wanted the woman to leave now.

“Hey.” She was standing over him with a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know how much you got of that, but my card is here.” She looked at the bedside table. “Don’t hesitate to call. Now, get some sleep.” She smiled kindly, put on a jacket and pulled her bag over one shoulder and then she opened the door to great the people outside.

“How is he? He is okay, right?”

Emmy physically had to put her hands on Dean’s chest to calm him down and make him stop talking.

“He’ll be fine. Right now, he just needs rest.”

She had left the door open behind her and stood close to the opening. Sam was sure it was intentional so he’d hear what she told Dean. Sam saw her gesturing someone to move away. Bobby must have come out of the next room to see if there was any news.

“He’s okay. I’ll come say bye before I leave.” It seemed like Bobby had retracted to his domain with that.

“What happened to him?” Dean was still on edge. Sam could hear his voice being slightly higher pitched that usually.

“He got shot. The placement of the wound was tricky but he’ll be fine.” Emmy was getting into that tone of voice that had scared him to begin with, but his older brother didn’t seem to back down, in fact he just sounded more agitated.

“Tricky how? What does that mean?!”

“Calm down, and listen.” Emmy talked easy, to not make Dean more frantic, but just loudly enough to let Sam hear every word.

“Your brother needs rest now. You can be with him, but you need to know a few things to help him first.” She paused and when Dean didn’t say anything she continued. “He’s not allowed to move for two days, and after that he still have to be cautious not to stretch his stitches. I guess you’re not sad about being confined to a room yourself.”

What did she mean by that. Did he need rest too? Could he really have missed noticing that Dean was seriously hurt?

“Can I go in now?” Dean sounded impatient, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. That normally annoyed Sam but right now it made him smile.

“Just one more thing. When I said he wasn’t allowed to move, I meant he should stay in bed at all times. That’s why he has a catheter so he can urinate and why he shouldn’t eat solid food until the stitches are out.”

“A catheter? You mean you showed a tube inside my brother?” Dean sounded almost angry. Sam was mortified. This was too intimate for brothers. He dreaded the uncomfortable look on Dean’s face when he’d walk through the door. He wasn’t even sure he’d come in at all.

“Yes.” The doctor stayed calm. “He can take it out in two days and the stitches in ten. If he has problems with either he can call or you can drive to see me. I know you guys probably want to leave here soon and he can travel in two days’ time too. Just make him lay down in the back. He shouldn’t be sitting for long periods of time.”

Sam was expecting the questions and demands for answers to continue for quite some time, but it seemed like Dean either was satisfied, had given up or didn’t want to know the rest.

“Okay. I got it.” Did his hot-tempered-over-eager-impatient-brother just kindly respond to the doctor?

“Can I go in now?”

The door opened the door a bit more and Emmy let Dean pass her and closed it behind him. Sam was surprised to see only relief on his brother’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was the last for today. I always think it's going to be a short one and then I spend a whole Sunday writing and 4 planed chapters turn in to 6+. Last chapter (maybe second to last) will be up tomorrow.
> 
> Let me know what you think so far.


	7. Chick flick moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam have a talk. ...okay, mostly Dean talks.

Dean heard the door close behind him and took a second to let his eyes adjust to the dimmed light in the room. It didn’t matter what the doctor had said about the next few days, all he wanted was conformation that his little-brother was well.

There he was. In the bed furthest from the door, as he’d been the last two days but this time he was looking at him. As Dean walked over to the chair by his brother’s side, he couldn’t help but noticing how small he looked. Sam was lying flat on his back with both hands clutching the cover and pulling it up close to his chin. His long brown hair was wet with sweat and sticking to his face. Maybe the fewer wasn’t all gone.

“Sammy.” Dean pulled the chair close to the bed but didn’t touch Sam. “Good to see you a bit more alert.”

Sam was definitely studying him. Trying to figure out what to expect. Dean looked around the room, noticing the plastic bag hanging on the edge of the bed next to Sam’s feet, but he didn’t let his eyes linger. He saw the pile of pillows on the floor and picked one up.

“Do you feel like sitting up a bit?”

Sam nodded pensively and pushed his arms back to get his head elevated. Meanwhile, still holding on to the cover like it meant his life. Dean placed one hand on the back of the small-big guy and lifted him high enough to get two pillows under him. Letting out a deep hollow sigh as the stitches on his own back stretched.

“Are you okay?” Sam looked worried as he placed his head back into the soft underlay. In that moment, the stress, Dean had been in the last few days and especially the last three and a half hours, subsided and he was able to relax a little bit.

“Peachy.” He grinned at the question. Sam was back. He was back to being his concerned and overly caring little brother.

“Let me see.” Sam had that frown in his forehead that he used to get when he didn’t trust Dean completely and had to make sure.

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” Dean didn’t even think about everything leading up till this moment, until he saw Sam retract into the bed and turn his head away.

“Shit.” He whispered to himself, but then he grabbed Sam’s shoulder. “Sorry man, I wasn’t thinking. I’m just happy you’re okay.” He paused.

“You’re okay, right?”

“Peachy.” Sam turned his head back towards him. It even looked like he tried to smile, not quite succeeding, though. Dean didn’t address the tears forming in his brother’s eyes.

Dean took hold of his brother’s hand, still placed on his chest, holding on to the cover.

“Relax, Sammy you need rest. I’m not pulling that away.” He looked at the blanket shielding the tall guy from head to toe.

He felt Sam relax his hand a bit and slightly let go of the edge of the blanket. He noticed Sam’s gaze lingering on the bandage showing over the top of his shoulder peeping out the collar of his shirt.

“I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt that much. I think it’s just the heat irritating me under the bandage.”

He shifted a bit, to emphasize his point and realized that the hours outside in the mid-day sun probably hadn’t been the best choice for a wound under a thick bandage. Sam still seemed like he could detect every hurt or discomfort from his brother. He should have changed it hours ago but he’d sent Bobby away when he’d come out to offer his services.

“Hold on. I just need to get it some air. Let me get this sweaty shirt off and then you can see for yourself.”

Dean hadn’t seen the laceration himself yet but he hoped it wouldn't look to gory and that Bobby had fixed it to Sam’s satisfaction. It took a while to get out of the shirt but he managed. The bandage was easy to pull off, from the shoulder and down, but he couldn’t help but showing the pain on his face, when the material pulled from the still tender and unhealed wound and he could see Sam’s worry growing. Dean looked at the used bandage. Not much blood. No sign of infection. He turned around and let the light from the window display his back for Sam.

Sam didn’t say anything so after a few seconds Dean turned around and sat down by his side, not bothering to put on a dry shirt. He took hold of his brother’s hand again.

“Hey. It’s not that bad. It’ll heal and in two weeks you’ll get to pick all of that thread out of me and I’ll throw up… several times.”

Sam was smiling. He’d taking Dean’s stitches out enough times to know, that it would probably go down just like described.

Dean turned his attention back to Sam’s injuries. “Are there anything you need me to get, or do, or…”

“No. Thanks. I’m fine. You might want to get Bobby to clean that and give you a new bandage, though.”

“Not now.”

Dean moved a bit closer, making Sam pay attention. “I’ll make you a deal.”

Sam looked curious.

“We’ll spend the next two days in this crappy motel room. Watching crappy day-time-TV and eating… well, drinking crappy smoothies.” Dean felt like he’d just committed to a life time, living on castor oil.

“Dean…”

“I’m not done yet.” Dean ignored look of a martyr on Sam’s face. He was not doing this alone. Not anymore. “When the two days are up, you do what you have to do…” He looked down at the illustrated manual on the bed table and Sam’s eyes followed. “…and I’ll stay the hell away, ready to call the doctor. What was her name anyway?”

“Emmy.”

“Right. I’ll call Emmy if you need her or we’ll drive there.”

“Dean… I…” Sam stopped himself and Dean made a guess of where he was going.

“You don’t have to tell me anything unless you need to. Hell, I’d rather not know anyway.” He must have guessed right. Sam eased up and Dean was sure this was the first time his body was entirely relaxed since he’d walked through that door.

“…but Sammy.” He waited till he got eye-contact with him. “You need to promise me something.”

Sam just stared at him. Was he holding his breath?

“You need to tell me stuff. If you’re hurt and can’t have me fix it, you need to make me find someone else. Okay?”

Sam didn’t react. They’d never had that problem before and it might be too soon to have this conversation, but Dean needed to be sure that he would tell him if something went wrong overnight.

“Hey, man! I had no idea what was happening.” Dean was almost shouting. “For all I knew you were DYING in that bathroom, while Bobby was playing seamstress on my back!” Now he was definitely shouting.

“I get it!”

Sam cut him of a second before he would have started crying.

“Dean, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Dean sat down, this time on the bed next to his brother. He wasn’t nervous about doing something wrong or accidently touching him anymore. “Just make the deal.”

Sam put his hand on his brother’s good shoulder. Then he broke the tension with a chuckle. Dean was confused.

“We might need to make that deal both ways.”

Dean shook his head and laughed.

“Sure, little brother.”

Dean wasn’t sure he would be able to keep that promise. He was even worse at talking about stuff than Sam and if it had been him, this time, he might have kicked the woman who was trying to help. He didn’t know about the other stuff but he’d heard Sam yelling in pain through the door and the catheter would certainly have been a no-go. He would try though. He would do his best to not let Sam go through the fear he’d had the last few days.

He promised himself he would try.


	8. The first name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally leaving that motel

A car drove off and there was a knock on the door.

“Yeah.”

Dean was at the table. He’d realized that leaning against pillows in a bed wasn’t that comfortable. On the chair, he could sit up straight and don’t apply any pressure to his sore back.

Bobby’s head popped in.

“You guys still alive?”

“Hey, Bobby.”

Sam was lying on his side. The painkillers were gone and it hurt to lie on his back. He had asked Dean for a towel and had placed it between his knees to separate his thighs a bit. He’d found that it was stretching less that way. Dean had been holding his shoulders to make sure he wouldn’t roll out of bed and deliberately looking at his brothers face the whole time.

“It’s good to see you on the other side… literally.”

“Hm. Thanks.”

Sam smiled. Well, he was lying on his other side. Looking at the TV. Daytime-TV really was crappy.

“Bobby…” Sam started.

“I don’t need to know. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay… and then see if your brother here needed a change of his bandage. See you already started.”

Bobby looked at Dean like he was a lost cause. “You really are a pain in my butt.”

Dean just sat there, only flinching occasionally, when it stung too much. He could feel Sam’s eyes on him the whole time. Neither of them said anything.

After the needlework was covered Dean decided to move to the bed after all. It wasn’t that bad laying on his back, as long as he didn’t move, but he was sure he would have to sleep face down.

Bobby went back to his own room, after reminding them that he in fact had a phone if they needed anything.

-

Two days later Dean was packing the car. He was taking his time even looking through their bags multiple times. Sam was in the bathroom.

Or he was supposed to be. He could still hear him in the room.

“Dean?”

Sam sounded defeated and nervous. Dean didn’t hesitate to go back in.

He’d noticed the nervousness building up over the last day or so. He wasn’t surprised though. He would be a wreck himself, if he had to remove a thing like that.

Sam was lying crooked on the bed. His head in his one arm and both feet on the ground. He’d been cold the night before and managed to put on sweatpants. He looked like he could pass out and roll of the bed at any moment.

“Sammy.”

Dean rushed to his side and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“I’m okay. I’m just dizzy as fuck. I need to drink something else than water and smoothies.”

“You sure? You’re not hurting?”

Dean made his brother look at him.

“I’m sure. I just need help getting to the bathroom, my legs are kinda tired.”

Dean should have realized that lying down for four days and not eating, would not correspond well with suddenly deciding to stand.

He had been adamant about following Sam’s diet but he must have looked miserable, because yesterday, Sam had threatened to throw one of the pee-bags after him if he didn’t eat a burger. Bobby had left after one night and Dean was the one getting food, so he’d eat out and not in front of Sam.

Looking at Sam now it was clearly the right choice to start eating. He was the one driving.

“Okay, big guy. Let’s get you up.”

He pushed Sam to sit upright in the bed and placed himself under one of the long arms and pulled. He shifted to find balance under the heavy weight. Once they both stood kinda still they started walking.

Sam paced a heavy hand on the door handle and took some weight of Dean.

“You sure you’ll be fine in there?”

“Yeah.”

As Sam made his way to hold on to the sink, Dean noticed the line clamped off, sticking out of the pants by his foot.

“Can you get me the…” Sam looked at the bag Emmy had left on the bedside table.

Dean picked it up and the manual too. He got to Sam quick and gave him what he’d asked for.

“Don’t lock the door.”

Sam closed the door and to his relief, Dean didn’t hear the lock.

It felt like hours. He’d moved away from the door but stayed in the room. Once in a while he could hear Sam moan or swear but as long as he didn’t hear the sound of the big man falling to the ground, he didn’t move or ask if he was okay.

Eventually the door opened and a pale and shaky Sam leaned against the doorframe.

Dean was at his side instantly and helped him to the bed. He had no idea how to ask if everything went fine. He could see that his little brother was not fine but had there been any problems? Was he okay or should he call the doctor. He looked at the card on the table and Sam must have picked up on that.

“I’m okay. Just give me a minute.”

Dean investigated his brother’s face for any sign of deceive.

“Really, Dean. I’m fine.”

“Okay, but are you sure you want to drive to Bobbys today. We can wait till morning.”

“I need to get outta here, just as much as you do. I would be climbing the walls if I could and you already are.”

He was right they were both going stir-crazy.

“Besides I need to go to a pharmacy, anyway, to get some kind of food-drink or anything that will prevent me from falling over when I’m blinking.”

Dean headed to the parking lot.

“I’ll drive the car up front.”

-

While Sam was getting himself positioned on the backseat of the Impala, Dean did last sweep of the room. Making sure noting was left behind. He didn’t expect to find the doctors card already gone. He would have kept it for a few days at least but Sam must have already tossed it. It didn’t really matter. Bobby would be able to contact her if they needed.

-

Weeks after, he would learn that from that day Sam kept a little blue notebook with him at all times. The first page of the book said:

_DR. EMILY PETERSEN_

_LONGMONT, CO_

_(303) 532-4389_

_(KNOWS HUNTING)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think and if I should add more names to the book.   
> I have a few ideas, but need to work on it a bit.   
> Maybe I need to see the series again to figure out the timeline. Tough luck, right? ;-)


End file.
